


Abandon

by tsubasachan



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:39:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsubasachan/pseuds/tsubasachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a soul's duty to be loyal to its own desires." Rated M for adult situations</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decision

Ise Nanao was a woman of principle; she had always put duty before pleasure, always done the right thing no matter the sacrifice it required. She had worked day and night in the Academy because she thought that was what it took to be a good Shinigami. She practiced endlessly to train herself for the performance that Soul Society would expect of her. She did all that she did just so she would be able to hold her head up high, so that she would never have to go back to where she had come from. She rejoiced quietly in the dignity with which other people treated her and worked herself to the bone just to keep that respect. She spent so long a time buried in her books, under the burden of her pride that she forgot how to live.

Matsumoto Rangiku had been a blessing in disguise, not to mention a very unwanted one at the time. She had stumbled into Nanao's quarters when they were both lowly seated-officers, thoroughly drunk and exceedingly insistent that 'librarian-girl' come out and play. Nanao, after being dragged out by her nose, had thought that one round of sake to pacify the rather homicidal blonde-haired woman could not do her much harm…and it was a weekend after all. Matsumoto managed to get Nanao drunk and although Nanao still makes it a point to turn up her nose at the mention of the events of that fateful night, she still considered it the only occasion when she had felt so utterly uninhibited. They had ended up at Matsumoto's place nursing colossal hangovers and much bruised modesties. It still surprises her that it took one joke and a throaty cackle from Rangiku to make her realize that it had been years since she had laughed.

Her second emancipation came on the day she was promoted to Vice-Captain, under the 8th Squad Captain; Kyouraku Shunsui. The moment the man floated in with his pink flowery coat with his bottle of sake and his profuse lack of manners, he set off a twinge in her that took her otherwise brilliant mind years to interpret. To her surprise, she realized that the twinge in her was actually envy. Envy towards the drunken, womanizing, slothful escapist she called Taichou. Because Ise Nanao was no fool, never had been. She knew that the life of a shinigami was fickle, no matter how long it lasted. She knew that in this world the next moment could be your last. Kyouraku Shunsui made her feel like she had been missing out on the fun side of life. In time, he made her feel like she had been missing out on life itself. It took a couple of hundred more years full of his liveliness and utter lack of reserve to make her feel like he was her life.

Nanao was used to summing people up with one glance. Her observational and inferential skills were unmatched. She could deduce a man's entire personality through one quick glimpse of his fingernails. She had been confident, secure in her ability to see through to people's weaknesses and strengths, and to manipulate them to suit either hers or their best interests. Kyouraku Shunsui, however much she had denied it, was the only person she could not understand. His entire being was cloaked in thick fog to her mathematical eyes, leaving her unsure and questioning herself. She just didn't know what to make of him. He was a square peg that she tried to fit into her neat, round slots, trying doggedly even though she knew he wouldn't fit. The man was a mass of impulses, tagging after her quoting tacky love poems one moment and turning into a beacon of strength and power the next.

He made her feel…incomplete. She decided she didn't like being that way at all.

Soon after he had 'saved' her from Genryuusai Sama and sent her heart skittering from her grasp, she concluded that she couldn't take it anymore. One moment she felt like she was walking on air. The next, she felt like the gods had assigned a special little raincloud to hover over her head.

So when she showed up at his door in the middle of the night her decision was firm. Tonight she would finish this masochistic torture. She had agonized for a while whether he would be sober enough to actually…follow her plan, until a little voice in her head told her that he was never truly drunk, he just pretended to be.

The shoji rolled back, revealing Shunsui in a yukata, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It took him a second to realize who was standing on his veranda. Brows lifted amusedly he motioned for her to enter before sliding the door shut and leaning against the doorjamb to survey her playfully.

"Nanao-Chan? Why are you here so late at night? Have you come to seduce me?" the man grinned as his eyebrows waggled suggestively. Nanao pushed her glasses up delicately with her forefinger before gathering all her courage and drawing on all of Matsumoto's abundant advice, fixed him with the most heated gaze she could muster.

"Yes. Yes, I have."


	2. Abandon

"Nanao-Chan? Why are you here so late at night? Have you come to seduce me?"

"Yes. Yes, I have."

Kyouraku Shunsui blinked.

His Nanao Chan was standing at his door, telling him that she was there in the middle of the night to indulge in all sorts of naughty nocturnal activities with him. Ise Nanao. Naughty nocturnal activities.

Kyouraku Shunsui blinked again.

Nanao just stood in front of him tapping her dainty foot on the ground, impatiently waiting for the shock to wear off looking more than a little ticked off. Shunsui had to struggle to control his suddenly overactive imagination.

Letting out his breath with a whoosh, he pulled his stunned features into the most adorable smile he could.

"Ah, my Nanao Chan is such a wit-" a single fingertip on his mouth cut him off midsentence. His mouth dried at the look in her eyes.

"I'm not joking Taichou. Moreover, our relationship isn't completely platonic, or is it? "She sashayed past him and reached up to unclasp her hairclip. The sleeves of her uniform slipped to her elbows, exposing her delicate wrists the lovely lines of her arms. He felt his sanity skim away along with the cloth.

"It's supposed to be, Nanao." Her glasses were somehow off and he could see into the deep darkness of her eyes.

His voice was suddenly so serious that she looked at him over her shoulder, her hair cascading down as her precise movements with the hairclip accomplished their goal. He was still leaning on the door, silent unmoving and grave, making her resolve waver more than a little.

She summoned all the courage she had to walk to him and lean into his chest, slowly sliding the door shut with a single graceful shift of her arm. He was swamped by her proximity and her scent, rainwater and pears.

He was brooding and she had the feeling that he both all too aware of her and at the same time too lost in himself to make a move. She remedied it by chastely pressing her lips to his. He froze, stiffened for just a moment before his lips softened against hers. She pulled away, lowering her head so he couldn't see her eyes as she fiddled with the fold of his yukata, unconsciously arranging it.

"You're not letting it. I thought I could ignore everything, I used to be able to you know. I could ignore everything and pretend that I didn't notice how my heart jumped when you said something stupid about me. Or how I wanted to kill Matsumoto when your eyes rested on her for too long."

His brain screamed incongruously for him to run away from her as fast as he could; his body, to just take her in his arms and fulfill that grinding need that had been brewing between them for so long.

"Nanao…" she leaned her forehead gently against his chest; her breath was fire on his skin. It was odd how he couldn't think, like a schoolboy in front of his first crush. He was utterly tongue-tied, couldn't manage to force anything but her name past his lips while his brain screeched up a cacophony inside his head.

"No. I want you to know, even though I know it doesn't make a difference, even if it doesn't change anything. Remember that day you read out that ridiculous poetry to me beneath the sakura trees? I think I've been in love with you ever since, I just didn't know it."

She looked up at him then, and though her voice was full of tears, her eyes were dry and luminous in the warm lamplight.

"I don't expect the words back, Taichou. We both know this would be disastrous to our careers. I'm only asking for tonight. Will you?" she couldn't bring herself to cheapen her feelings more by saying it.

Her heart swelled with something incomprehensible when he leaned down and kissed her forehead, her eyes, the tip of her nose, her cheeks. Whispered her name before claiming her lips with his.

He tasted like sake and underneath that of something she couldn't place as anything other than him. His lips were soft and firm and smooth at the same time and the way they moved over hers left her dizzy and wanting. His tongue followed her harsh intake of breath, making her moan in pleasure, making her melt in his arms and tangle her fingers in his hair as he carried her to the futon.

He hulked over her small frame, all bronzed muscle and hard planes, his weight pressing her into the softness of the bedding. She let her restless hands explore him, surprised to feel that his shirt was open, and even more surprised to find hers missing altogether. His tongue was exploring her mouth, sweeping through in long lazy strokes that sent shivers of desire straight to her core. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth making her arch up against him, gasping.

Her fingertips brushed over his unshaven cheeks, the line of his jaw, tracing his collarbone, driving him mad. He snatched up one of her roving hands, brought it to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers. Her breath hitched in the most adorable way, her eyes vulnerable and oh so wanting. His body burned with desire but tonight wasn't for him. He prayed to whatever deity was listening for there to be more nights like this one, for her to let him…

"Open up for me," he whispered, breathing harshly against her swollen mouth and then impatiently pushed her chin down with his thumb. His tongue shot past her lips, tearing a gasp from her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. What was a man supposed to do with such a willing, innocent, candid temptress who seemed hell-bent on unwittingly seducing him into losing all control?

"Kiss me. Kiss me back, Nanao," he whispered and fused his mouth with hers again, tongue sliding in, this time to play with hers. She arched against him, pressing against his hardness. He gasped and reached up to caress her breasts.

She was struggling for breath, as his hands continued their pleasure-torture, his mouth dragging across her cheek to suck on the curve of her jaw. She groaned as his teeth scraped down her neck and bit at the dip in her collarbone. Her nails dug into his back.

Abandon, all she could do was abandon herself to the sensations that went singing through her. He didn't know what she did to make him want her so badly but it worked. He captured her lips again and this time she fought for the advantage. He broke the kiss suddenly and wrapping his arms around her waist, lifted them both until he was kneeling and she was straddling his legs, her own wrapped around his waist. The feeling of her pelvis pressed to his was almost too much to take; his pants restricted him painfully.

"Shunsui! What are you doing to me?" she moaned and fused her lips to his. He tugged at her full bottom lip and then left her mouth, traveling down. She whimpered, or maybe it was him, there was no way to be sure. The world was melting into a myriad of colors, like a watercolor left out in the rain.

His hand closed over her breast, tearing a gasp from her and she arched into his hand. She nearly screamed with pleasure when his mouth followed, fingers tangled in his hair, clutching his mouth in place. He moved on to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. By the time his mouth returned to hers, she felt like a burning, quivering mass of jelly. Hunger flared up inside her and she tore at his shirt, desperate to touch him back, to feel his skin against hers. He helped her by roughly pulling it off and crushing her against his bare chest, mouth hungering against hers. He felt like silk over steel, every muscle she ran her hands over was taut and she felt like she couldn't get enough of just the feeling of his bare flesh. She broke the kiss, trailing her lips down his neck, running her hands over his strong arms as her action made his hands grip her hips harder.

She was kissing down his chest, pushing him back to allow her more access, and he felt the last of his blood draining toward a very specific area. He couldn't take this anymore. His hips bucked up against her repeatedly, needily while his hand tangled in her hair, encouraging her. He groaned as her lips found his nipples and pulled one into her mouth. He couldn't take it anymore; if he let her go on for even one more second he would explode in his pants. He jerked her lips up to his own in a fiery kiss before coaxing her onto her back, struggling with her hakama. She helped him by arching her hips off the floor so he could slide them off. He made quick work of her panties and his fingers were touching her, making her whimper with so many needs.

He found her hands planted against his chest, and before he knew it he was on his back and she was lowering herself onto his length and the world was closing in on him until there was only her, only her. Her fire was eating away at him, eroding the definite lines of dreams and reality, stripping him of his sanity with every clean movement of her body. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and when he did, he didn't trust himself to blink.

He was so hard and so hot and so there that she nearly wept for the joy that rushed through her in a dizzying wave as she began to move over him, back and forth and in little circles that made him grind his teeth and dig his fingers into her hips to make her move on and off. She had the most radiant smile on her face, full of power and knowledge and secrets he could never hope to find out but how he wished to. The ability to think was slipping from his fingers now, along with his control.

He flipped her over quickly, so she wouldn't be able to fight it, but her smile gave him the vague impression that he had only succeeded because she let him. He couldn't bring himself to care, not when she was tightening around him just so…

She cried out with his first thrust, her eyes glazing over with shocked pleasure and he found himself wondering absently what sort of lovers she had taken before who weren't able to make her feel even this. His ego surged and he designed every thrust for her pleasure. She released a low scream and he felt her muscles clench around him in a velvet fist that nearly broke his control but he couldn't finish yet, not when he had so much more to show her.

He waited for the spasms to subside, reveling in her surprised gaze when she discovered him still hard inside her, even more in her harsh gasp against his mouth when he began to move again, harder, more selfish this time.

"Nanao," his voice rasped against her ear.

It had been amazing, mind-blowing and the fact that he wasn't done yet, that there may be more excited her like nothing had ever before. He lifted one leg over his shoulder, sliding in deeper, harder making her scream with every plunge inside her. He was grinding against her hyper-sensitive flesh, and the burning wall of pleasure was going to slam into her any moment now.

"Nanao, come for me. Come for me now." He cried out her name when she did.

She came harder than before, the waves of her pleasure taking him with her as he spilled himself inside her, gasping against her shoulder, shivering and shaking with the force of it. It was out of his mouth before he knew it.

"I love you." He could have sworn she laughed as the tears that had been in her voice finally flowed from her eyes.


	3. Reality

The sky was graying outside the window when she awoke, the feeling of waking up in a man's arms unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Slowly she shifted to face her lover, the slight movement making abused tissues sting. She made a mental note to never go that long without sex again. The sight of Shunsui in the morning was not something she had expected, not after last night. He was sprawled over the futon, snoring and drooling all over the pillow. Not a pleasant sight, but she couldn't deny that it made her feel deliriously, dizzily happy.

She rolled onto her back, smiling as she stretched her arms out over her head. Last night had been…amazing. She had never felt so alive before, so free. She had also never had four rounds in a record time of 5 hours. It had been so different from how she had imagined it would be, and so much more. Sex had never been so meaningful before, never been so consequential. She allowed herself a selfish burst of joy at the realization that he loved her. Kyouraku Shunsui loved her. She leaned in close to him and brushed a light kiss on the curve of his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

Dawn was breaking, sending pale beams of warmth into the room when she softly climbed out of bed. her captain may be excused from lateness seeing as no one could make him break his habit of sleeping in, but someone had to make sure the division didn't fall into chaos. She had barely completed that thought when the enormity of the situation hit her, jarring her teeth and jerking her out of the sleepy cloud of the early morning. The euphoria evaporated. She had just spent the night with her captain.

She had just had sex with her captain

Every time she repeated those words she felt cheaper, dirtier till she felt like scraping her skin off with her own fingernails.

How could she have done this? How could she have allowed something like this to happen let alone instigate it? Why didn't Shunsui stop her! She had been out of her mind last night. How was she even supposed to face him after this? How were they supposed to work together and pretend nothing had happened? How had she allowed the most meaningful act of her life to become nothing more than a booty call?

She reeled from the weight of her actions. Part of her wanted to blame everything on him, that the few sips of sake that were supposed to fortify her had gotten her drunk, that she had been vulnerable and he had taken advantage of that. But she knew that it had been her call, that everything that had happened last night had happened because she wanted it to happen. She knew that she couldn't cheapen what had happened, cheapen them both more than she already had.

She sighed heavily, pushing away the guilt, shame and anger burning through her veins. Ise Nanao was nothing if not practical. She could deal with this; she had committed to only one night after all. She had taken this step so damage control was her business now.

Shunsui…no, Kyouraku Taichou had agreed to one night. That was all she had asked for and that was all he had given. So what if she had said those three words, so what if she had gotten them back? Even if she ignored the consequences of getting involved with a colleague, Love meant nothing in this everlasting world. Love waned away, eroded with the endless tides of time, faded to nothing. She had seen Love, supposedly the most powerful thing in the world, morph into mundane obligation too many times to allow herself to fall into its golden trap. This was the best way; end it before love became a disappointment. One night was all they could have together. One night was all it would be. She wouldn't let it be any more than that. For both their sakes.


	4. Dreamscapes

Kyouraku Shunsui drifted into consciousness with two ideas clearly formed in his sleep-hazed head.

One, that he was naked under his sheets, a normal state of being for him.

And the second…

There was light in his eyes.

Shunsui flinched, waiting for the explosion of pain that always hit him in varying levels of intensity. It never came. Since the lack of blinding agony meant that he didn't drink himself into a stupor last night, it had to be that he was either horribly maimed or incarcerated. He cracked one eye open gingerly, cautiously surveying his surroundings before whooshing out a breath in relief. He wasn't in a jail cell or the infirmary.

The memories of last night came to him in one dazzling rush. His lips curling into a lazy smile, he turned over to find the space beside him empty. He hadn't expected her to stay, it was late and God forbid his Nanao Chan should sleep in…

He wasn't sure what last night had been. Lapse of judgment on her part, lapse of reality on his? Whatever it was, it had been the most confusing night of his life, and the most enlightening. Time had blurred the edges of when his playful teasing had grown into actual love for her. But it had happened.

He ran his hand through his hair in wonder, staring at the ceiling like he had never seen it before. He had spent last night making love to Ise Nanao. Making love, not sex, because she told him that she loved him. It had been too long since he had felt this way; too long since he had been in love with his lover.

Gods, just the remembrance of the ways in which she had reacted to his touch made him want her again. She used to make his bones ache with desire. Now his very soul cried out for her.

The fact that she wanted last night to be their only night together didn't bother him. He knew her enough to predict her actions. She would have woken up happy, sated, smiling. Then there would be regret, anger and perhaps a bit of shame at what she had done. She would have gotten dressed quickly, efficiently; her elegant hands trained enough to not need a mirror to lay pleats and folds neatly in place. She would have tied up her hair, remembering last night when she had started everything by letting in down and swearing that she wouldn't let it slip a millimeter ever again. Then she would have paused at the door, glanced over her shoulder with eyes so sad and left with the sound of rustling fabric and the swish of the shoji.

Gah. He was a poet!

She would probably be working herself into a frenzy, trying to kill the growing dread and nervousness inside her. Perhaps her hands would be shaking, and her brush would form spidery, unstable characters on forms and memos instead of her usual precise letters.

He knew that she would try her hardest to run, to make it so it never happened. Her pride and her sense of wrong would eat at her until she "fixed" everything. He'd be damned to the lowest depths of hell if he let her.

He knew every path she ran, every plan in her organized mind, and her knew every way to turn her sensible world inside out. He wouldn't let her get away, not without a fight. After last night, the chase he had been in for decades took a turn in his favor. He would make her love him so much that she will come to him herself.

"Nanao Chan, let the games begin."


End file.
